Post by kenji nakamura d5m {lance} on Dec 29, 2019 23:50:06 GMT -5

It's strange. People across your life have always referred to your home as the poorest district. The backwater district. The district that everyone else sees as the shithole of the nation.

You would know. You've heard the angry shouts your mother and father have on the phone with merchants from other districts, vehemently denying such a fact. Never mind that you're distantly related to a wealthy local family through a third cousin or something like that, the entire reason your family set up roots here before the Dark Days made leaving an impossibility. You know their defenses are hollow, that privately they agree with the sentiment. Despite having two victors in recent years and three more before that, Twelve has never stood high on the social standing when it came to the merchants.

But you find that it's quite enjoyable, regardless. Sure, you're the first to admit that you're spoiled rotten - being an only child to parents who were already old when they had you and are older now has that effect - but you've never disliked life in the land of coal. On the rare occasions that you're allowed out and about, it's always an interesting experience. You stick out like a thumb with your crisped button down shirt and unnatural hair color (hey, having connections to the Capitol can be an advantage when it comes to experimenting with your appearance, even if your parents disapprove) and yet the looks are rarely malicious. Envious, perhaps, mostly confused, but never malicious.

And each time you venture a little further, discover something new. And never has it been anything other than fascinating, as of yet. No matter how much your parents disapprove or forbid you for mingling with the common folk, you disagree. Aren't you supposed to know the people of your home? Won't that be advantageous when you take over the family business?

It's not often you win over your parents, but it was satisfying nonetheless.